


should you wish to join us

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Prompt Fill, Sharing a Bed, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Marcus wakes into heat and warmth and it'd be helpful if he had a fucking clue where he is, who he's with, and what he's done...
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 23
Kudos: 193
Collections: Peeps Prompting Peeps Server Collection





	should you wish to join us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FPwoper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FPwoper/gifts).

> This fic came about because of a 3 Sentence prompt challenge of "Marcus/Percy/Oliver and bed sharing and misunderstandings" and it... is a lot more than three sentences. BUT. It's under 1k. So at least there's that. It is indeed actually short. Many thanks to fpwoper for the prompt!

Marcus wakes into heat and warmth and he has no fucking clue where he is. A foot presses against his ankle, an arm is over his body, a leg over his thigh; it’s cozy, and comfortable, and he doesn’t want to open his eyes.

It’d help if he remembered how he got here, or even where here is.

Someone moves, and the spell is disrupted. The bed grows cold when a body rolls away, and Marcus is confused by the fact that there’s still someone with him, long and lanky, hand slowly moving against his side.

“You have to be on the pitch in exactly one hour and thirty minutes.” Percy Weasley’s precise, clipped tones are a wash of cold water.

“There’s still time for a shower.”

Marcus opens his eyes to find Oliver leaning up to look at him, eyes still hooded with sleep while Percy stands over them both. Marcus’s throat goes dry.

“‘M in your bed,” he mutters.

“Observant as always, Flint.” Oliver pats his chest. “Yes, you are in our bed.”

“Did we…?” Marcus takes stock of the fact that he’s wearing pants and nothing else. “Fuck.” He pushes Oliver away, scrambles the bed. “You’re sodding married. I shouldn’t have—”

Percy sniffs. “As if we would—”

Marcus doesn’t need to hear more than that. Of course they wouldn’t. Not with him, anyroad, and they’re married besides. He stumbles to the closest open door, yanking it shut after he goes through and sinking down to sit on the edge of the tub. Voices are muffled outside before a soft tap against the wood of the door.

“Can I come in?” Oliver asks quietly.

“’T’s your house. Can’t stop you,” Marcus points out. He slumps, elbows on his knees, head in his hands as he sucks in long breaths in an attempt to steady himself.

Two breaths later, the door opens and he looks up to find that they’re both there. Percy, with his arms crossed and lips pursed, his head tilted as he watches Marcus. Fine points of rose flush his cheeks under the freckles, and fuck, it looks good on him. Oliver’s hair is tousled, his bare chest still carrying the imprints of the sheets in his skin. He idly scratches just above his pants.

“As I started to say: we would never take advantage of a man so intoxicated he could not possibly be able to consent,” Percy snaps sharply, the flush intensifying.

“You were absolutely pissed, not to mention knackered,” Oliver says. “Party ended and we all kept drinking, and we couldn’t send you home. So we did what we’ve been talking about and kept you.”

Marcus blinks, not sure he’s following all that.

“What who’s been talking about?” he asks.

Oliver gestures between himself and Percy. “We. Percy and I. About you.”

“What about me?” The words are sharp, and Marcus thinks about standing to get in Oliver’s face but this isn’t the pitch and his head is starting to ache, and his limbs feel too heavy to move. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose tightly. “You’ve got practice,” he mumbles. “Give me five minutes to piss and get dressed and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Fix this,” Oliver says to Percy. He crowds into the room, crouching down in front of Marcus, his hands on Marcus’s knees. “Marc. Look at me. Look at Percy.”

Marcus bites the insides of his cheeks to keep from saying anything as he looks up. Percy stands behind Oliver, hands on Oliver’s shoulders, his body stiff and straight, chin lifted slightly. His cheeks are flushed, and the rose warmth spreads down his neck and onto his chest.

“We would, however, be more than happy to take you back to our bed now that you are within possession of all your faculties, able to consider our offer, and consent if you wish.” Percy nudges his glasses up his nose with one finger. “You are, of course, welcome to piss and dress and leave, as you suggested, if that is what you would prefer. But as Oliver still has one hour and twenty-five minutes, and I know well from experience that he can manage to shower, eat, and leave the house for the pitch within fifteen minutes while barely awake, I am quite certain that gives us plenty of time to enjoy the pleasures of the bed without any need to rush.” Percy pauses, then adds quietly, “Should you wish to join us, that is.”

Wait.

“Are you saying that you want me to—” Marcus cuts off as he looks between them. “You’re having me on.”

“We’d like to have you on the bed,” Oliver quips. “Preferably under Percy. He has a long list of fantasies which he’s described in detail that I’d love to see happen. If you’re interested.”

The flush spreads across Percy’s chest, sliding down his sternum and leading straight to… oh, well, yeah, Percy’s interested. Marcus can see that. Hell, anyone with bloody eyes could see just how interested he is.

Marcus presses a palm against his pants to readjust himself. “Might be interested,” he allows.

Percy relaxes with a rough exhale. “Thank Merlin. You stripped and crawled into bed readily enough last night, but you were far too far gone to reason with. I thought this morning you’d think we’re mad.”

“Oh, I still think you’re having me on,” Marcus allows, because he can’t quite believe this is happening. That Oliver and Percy are ushering him out of the bathroom and back into bed and that oh yes, now they’re all starkers.

But he’s seen that light in Oliver’s eyes before, when they were just out of Hogwarts and seeking ways to burn off excess energy. And he’s imagined it in Percy’s. So if this is just some sort of fantasy or dream, might as well ride it out.

“I’d rather be getting you off,” Oliver murmurs, and after that, there’s no more room for misunderstandings or worries.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me (mostly silent) on Tumblr as [tryslora](http://tryslora.tumblr.com) and on Pillowfort as [tryslora](https://www.pillowfort.io/tryslora). I also write original fiction! If you like my fic, you might like my original twice-weekly series [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com) (also mirroring on Pillowfort at [Welcome to PHU](https://www.pillowfort.io/community/WelcomeToPHU)).


End file.
